Dance, Monkey: Lisa Lampanelli

A comic in the hot seat
By SARA FAITH ALTERMAN  |  October 30, 2007
Lisa Lampanelli

Lisa Lampanelli | Berklee Performance Center, Boston | November 2 | 617.747.2261
How do you feel about the crop of ’08 presidential candidates?
There’s a black guy, right? I don’t follow politics. I don’t read the newspaper. Wait — I’m going to read the Phoenix, just to see how badly you fucked up my quotes. I’m not even going to vote. Well, I might, so I can cast a vote for a black guy. He’s hot. The hottest one should win. It sure ain’t Hillary.

How do you feel about kitty cats?
Any guy who owns a cat is a fag. But I do love Hello Kitty. I love the Japs.

You appeared on a talk show with Simon Cowell once, right? What does he smell like?
I love him. He smells like Stetson cologne and ass. He smells like British ass. But it smells really good. He had on a lovely robin’s-egg-blue cashmere V-neck sweater when I met him. Wait, that might be in my fantasy. He’s so cute. I totally wish I was banging him.

You’ve done a lot of friars club and Comedy Central roasting. When the time comes, who do you want to “roast” you?
I hope they roast me before [Don] Rickles dies so he can take a shot at me. There are two kings of the roast: me and him. That old Jew is on his last legs, but he’s still got it, comedy-wise. I want him and Howard Stern to be there. You always want the people who you look up to to be there. Needless to say, no Carrot Top.

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